


Coming Under The Christmas Tree, Tonight

by josiemoone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Sirius Black, Christmas, Christmas Smut, Christmas Tree, Coming Under The Tree, M/M, Marauders' Era, Shameless Smut, Smut, Top Remus Lupin, i don't know where this came from
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 03:45:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13068414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiemoone/pseuds/josiemoone
Summary: When Sirius enrages Remus, they do a little more than put presents under the Christmas tree.





	Coming Under The Christmas Tree, Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my beta who I'll announce post-fest. I love you so much.
> 
> JKR owns all characters, I own nothing.

**Coming Under The Christmas Tree, Tonight  
**

* * *

The sound of jingling bells was all that could be heard in the forced silence after Sirius' word-vomited all over Remus. The flashing lights from the tree, punched into the air, blasting reds and blues, golds and greens all over the living room. If Remus' face had flushed in anger, Sirius wasn't able to tell, but the air tensing around them warned him he wasn't getting out of this argument unscathed.

It happened in a flash, and Sirius hadn't expected it at all. It was fuelled by anger, but their bodies craved it all the same. This wouldn't be classed as post-argument sex or even angry-sex, this was going to be labelled something else entirely—and it thrilled Sirius to no end.

Teeth were grazing against skin, and Sirius already knew he'd lost all leverage he had once been holding. Gone, vanished, as though someone had clicked undo on the ridiculous argument that had spanned their home. The wallpaper suddenly tarnished in bitter words, and the Christmas tree that had once sparkled true joy, wilted like the leaves on the trees in the bitterly cold weather sweeping the land outside. 

The entire argument had begun because Sirius hadn't wished to do any more " _bastard shopping"_ , and it ended with Remus shoving him into the wall, their lips crashing together and all other vulgarities fading to nothing.

It was inevitable Sirius would find himself giving in to Remus, he always did. It didn't surprise him he was here, wrapped around his waist as Remus gripped the back of his knees and drove all his anger into Sirius. He felt Remus prise apart his lips, Sirius smirking back as he met the rough feel of Remus' tongue, and he groaned—he _fucking_ moaned down Remus' throat.

Sirius, a man who was usually in control of  _everything_ in the bedroom _, enjoyed_ succumbing to this animalistic, dominating Remus—who from the feel of it, needed to be in control. Sirius could feel Remus' need to yank, tear and shred the clothes from both their backs, the look of Remus’ desire painted the room in colours the walls had never seen—the animal within Remus wishing for something more than their usual snogging sessions.

Remus had reached for, and held, his wand before Sirius had noticed the lack of touch on his throbbing cock. Sirius heard Remus' mutter the _lubrication spell,_ suddenly feeling something delightful below, while lighting a fire in Sirius he had yearned to feel— _this_ angry-filled, vendetta sex, was happening. He was glad he launched this fight; he was thankful he had lost his calmness and thrown the controlling Remus of his game. Sirius had little time to think on it before he felt the pleasure that came with Remus parting him, spreading him, _gently_ but with a look in his eyes that screamed he wanted to do the entire opposite.

Sirius missed Remus' finger the moment it left him, the order of _'get on the fuckin' floor'_ made Sirius moved before his brain thought to do it, and the two of them found themselves lip to lip once more, not allowing any more gruffly spoken words to fill the air. Knees were against wood first, then Sirius' back, and as Remus was on all fours over him, Sirius found he couldn't help but lick his lips and smirk. It felt groan-inducingly amazing when Remus pushed his finger back into him, before adding another, slowly moving them inside of him as Remus grazed his teeth down Sirius' neck. The way he stilled for a second, taunting and teasingly, staring into Sirius' eyes as he communicated words Remus would never speak, but wished Sirius to know.

There was something about knowing you were about to be fucked into the creaking floorboards that charged Sirius with a lust he had never felt. Further fuelled by the sight of the branches of the tree and the glimmer of the Christmas lights above. If one thing could be added to this, it would be snow—and lots of it. Sirius wanted to be fucked under _this_ tree, with snow all around him, and Remus' knees getting burns from the wood. It was all Sirius could think of. 

Sirius loved the snow, he always had. He loved throwing snowballs at people; he loved falling into the snow and creating snow angels. He loved Remus with flakes in his head and a pink nose, moaning he wanted a hot chocolate. However, he loved _fucking_ Remus him way more, and then there was Remus _fucking_ him, a dream that had become a reality all too quickly.

He felt Remus' teeth graze over his collarbone and it brought Sirius out of his head. He could feel bruising on his knees appearing from being held against the floor, truthfully, he cared so little, he needed and wanted more. Sirius didn't, and never would, give a single shit about marks or bruises, splinters and cuts from Remus Lupin. The man, who he adored, could mark him deeper, more permanent, bite, smack his arse until it was red—as long as that lust remains in Remus' eyes; as long as Remus continued to let that sexy, animalistic hiss pass his gloriously full lips.

Their eyes met, green and grey, mixing and forming into a shade unknown by any human, but it was one Sirius wished he could paint over the entire flat. He wanted to see that colour every time he woke up, washed over his walls and reminding him of the passion the two of them felt and always brought out between them. He wanted _the_  same shade that met his eyes when he got out of the shower, water dripping over muscles and long hair stuck to his neck. Sirius wanted that shade on the walls of their living room, quietly disrupting the peace as they attempted to enjoy television—this _fuck_ all over the wall like artwork, staring at them, reminding them they both lost control under a Christmas tree.

Remus' hand, the one that had been on Sirius' hip, let go;the burning of where his fingers had been tightening, ached. For a second, a heaved breath or two, neither having any idea what the other will do—and they both relish in it, loving the spontaneity of it all, wanting to live here in this moment, trapped in limbo and unpredictability. So Sirius, like the controlling _bitch_ he was, swirled his hips ever so slightly, creating a friction neither prepared for or knew they could both feel. Remus gripped Sirius' hair, their mouths smashing together as teeth bang against each other, moans and hisses mixed with air and lust as Remus lined himself up at Sirius' opening, pushing into him at the painfully-slowest, pleasure-inducing speed he could do without giving in.

"Fuck _you_ , Sirius. You need to be patient," Remus panted, pulling out before thrusting harder into him, once, twice.

Sirius gripped Remus' waist, feeling Remus' muscles contort under the new speed. He saw them working, watching eagerly as he imagined that tight, muscular arse working away. He missed it, Remus' arse, he liked to grip it, feel it under his fingers before leaving marks of any kind—teeth, bruises, _scratches_. He wanted to mark him now, claim him, make him his—in the same way Remus hoped to do to him. Sirius knew it; he could see it behind the layer of desire and the sheet of shyness, blowing in a breeze Remus hoped he was hiding.

"Fuck _me_ ," Sirius groaned, his back arching as he felt a pressure building in him. "Please. Just...Fuck. Me."

His own hands, calloused and worn from being Padfoot, grasped Remus' scarred hips—the markings of their animal counterparts meeting as their climb for pleasure continued. Sirius wanted to egg Remus on; he wanted to urge him to let the wolf within take over—release and give up control.

For now, he'd take this, being stretched and near brought to tears as Remus bottomed out inside of him, savouring how fucking good this felt. He tasted Remus' lips, chocolate and bitter coffee all mixing with explosive lust that consumed every inch of the man who feared the moon. The two finding a rhythm immediately—just like they always did—the anger of their past words falling from their tense muscles, fingers bruising skin, lips moving together as one. Each thrust, each meeting of their hips made Sirius hiss, not in pain— _never_ in pain—only ever in pleasure.

It didn't mean he couldn't have fun though, and so Sirius let go of Remus' hips, the green eyes looking at him as their lips broke, and Sirius slowly raised his thumbs to his tongue, one lick on each. Remus continued to hiss, to pant, to smash into him, and Sirius began his new plan—his way to overthrow the power, to disrupt the heaven Remus wished to create.

Using the strength in his legs, Sirius wrapped himself tighter around Remus' waist, bringing them closer together, burying Remus deeper inside of him. Sirius placed his thumbs on Remus' nipples, rubbing his hard skin over them, watching Remus' head go back as Sirius awarded himself a point, seeing annoyance flicker in Remus' eyes as he fisted his hair, biting down on his lip.

Everything was about control, and Sirius fucking hated it. He hated Remus picked when he _could_ go shopping because even if the sun was out behind the thick white clouds, it _still_ wasn't safe. Remus controlled their budget, if they'd get joint or individual presents and even what bloody wrapping paper they'd have—and it was ridiculous. It was all fucking ridiculous because it didn't matter, it would be shredded the same way, and no one would care if they got a tailored gift or a generic one. The thing about control, Sirius learnt, was when pushed again, when it was questioned, it would snap back—and he was currently relishing in it.

He was enjoying how Remus had cracked, that the pressure had eaten away and clothes had been yanked—buttons flying across the room. Sirius bit back a smirk as Remus whipped Sirius' belt out of his jean loops, cracking it in the air before discarding it to some dark corner of their home. He didn't stop the smirk when Remus ripped open his jeans, finding Sirius at full attention, and without underwear.

Remus fucking loved it. The gleam in his eye, the smirk that wished to crack the perfect, anger fuelled face Remus had perfected over the years.

Sirius tugged at his hair, bringing himself back to now, to _them_ , 'wrestling for dominance' although this time he wasn't doing that. He was _allowing_ Remus to win, to be on top, to drive both their pleasure and Sirius' forgiveness. When that _fuck yeah, Sirius_ came from Remus' usually-innocent lips, Sirius would know he was forgiven.

They were both close. Painstakingly close. Sirius' senses began to fail him, the soft scent of gingerbread fading and his eyes began to sparkle before all he could see was white. The fire inside of his stomach—the one that knitted and knotted, burning all of his soul—began to grow faster and faster, his pants and moans mixing together.

"Harder, Remus. Harder," Sirius begged, feeling Remus' fingers loop once more in his hair as he felt the burn of his scalp. He didn't care. He never did. "Oh, Remus. Fuck. Remus. Yes. Fuc-Ah—"

He didn't hear Remus join him. He didn't feel his pleasure cover his stomach or Remus convulse inside of him. He didn't feel the hardness of the floor, and it was only when Remus folded into him, collapsing in a drained heap that he felt anything.

Their hearts landed next to one another, beating rhythmically, perfectly in time with the other. Their breaths, mingling in the sex and Christmas air, tainting the baked goods and eggnog waiting on the counter.

They both lay there. Sirius' back flat to their floor, Remus against his chest, and no one spoke. Their eyes didn't meet; their bodies didn't relax. It was peaceful for the first time since the first of December had landed. The holiday season was antagonising them both for various reasons, and like many of their issues, it remained in a drawer not ready to be talked about.

Until _now_ , at least.

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispered, slowly running a hand through the curls on Remus' head. "I'm a fucking idiot and I just—"

"Wanted to be a prick and antagonise me? Loosen me up?" Remus said, his voice lacking any tone and it scared Sirius more than the disappointed or angry tone he usually received. "I'm sorry too."

Sirius relaxed his shoulders, feeling his legs slowly un-tense as Remus moved his hips and shifted himself accordingly until he was lay next to him, perfectly under the tree.

"I can't believe I fucked you under the tree," Remus laughed, his cheeks burning pink with embarrassment. "Fuck. Harry's gonna sit under it playing with the bloody snitch ornament again."

"You're a _dirty_ , Moony. Aren't ya?" Sirius smirked, as Remus punched him teasingly. "Ouch- _Oo_ , actually. I think I like that— _Ouch_! Don't hit me again, _ya prick_."

Remus laughed. Sweet, beautiful and normal—just like it should be.

Sirius licked his lips as he turned his head to meet Remus' eyes, not afraid to face him now, walls down and vulnerability out. "Christmas was the only holiday my mother specifically celebrated. And by celebrate I mean ruled with an iron wand. If a decoration was out of line or a carol was sung out of tune…" Sirius shuddered and closed his eyes, remembering the hexes that came with Yuletide. "I hated Christmas until Hogwarts. Until the Potters. But I never enjoyed it until I celebrated it with you, Moony. Remus, even, I love you. Even if I have a fucked up way of showing it."

He felt Remus move away, leaving a cold gap between them before Sirius felt warmth cover his legs and torso. Opening his eyes, he noticed Remus crawling over him on all fours a blanket over his back, and the fire that was never lit, suddenly flickering with flames.

"I love you." Remus began, pausing as he frowned before moving his wand over them, and Sirius smirked at the feel of the cleaning spell. "However, you can't expect me to read minds, Sirius. I don't know that Diagon and bloody wrapping paper an—"

"I know," Sirius interrupted, lifting onto his elbow. "I know, I truly, fucking know. We just had so much fun at school and here, it's stressful, and you snap, and you're mad at me, and to be fair, I haven't even done half the shit I normally do. For one, I didn't charm the baubles to fly at you everytime you muttered advent calendar, and I really bloody wanted too."

He saw a soft smile appear on Remus' lips, one he knew he was mirroring. "I'll be less bossy if I can," Remus said, "but you have to promise not to encourage my snappy behaviour, fucking under Christmas trees where our Godson will be sat is not what I want."

Sirius wiggled his eyebrows. "You sure about that, Moony? Cause ya seemed pretty into it from where I was pinned."

Remus cocked his head to the side. "Fuck. You. Sirius Ori- _arsehole_ Black."

"You did. Fuck me that is. Right in my Ori- _arse_ —Owahh! Stop fucking punching me!" Sirius hissed as Remus laughed. "It's not funny, you've got surprisingly good aim for getting the same fucking spot."

"Merry Christmas," Remus smirked, blowing his knuckles. "I heard that Santa Moony has given you a fist for Christmas."

"Oh for the love that is all snowy and red, please let it be a sexual fist," he teased, dodging out of the way of another punch.

“Sirius,” Remus said, and Sirius stilled beneath him, watching as Remus closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Fuck. Right.” He opened his eyes, dousing him in emerald. “Right, honestly, I love you so much, but Christmas is not going to be how it was when you lived with Walburga...” Remus paused as he used one hand to brush through his hair, Sirius watching it fall back to the place Remus moved it from as his hand moved to the floorboard again. “I promise you that…okay? But you _have_ to talk to me. I don't know what happened, and I know you don't want me too, but somethings I _need_ to know.”

“I know that,” Sirius said with a devious smirk that made Remus groan internally, “I do,” Sirius began to blush, and Remus raised his fingers to brush Sirius’ cheek, “I just wasn't used to _bossy-Christmas-elf-Remus_ , even if I've seen _exam-bossy-Remus_. It doesn't matter, it changed nothing, I’m still  _serious_ about you.”

It took a second. A moment. Then Remus laughed. The air twirling and swirling like the flakes outside that was turning the world to white, the sound carrying the weight of his anger away. “Did you...no you didn't? Did you?”

“That's how much I love you. How much  _you_ mean to me. I want…I need _us_ , to be a team. A united, Christmas front. I need you, to fuck me under the tree again, Moony. Because that... _fuck-me-and-all-the-wrapping-and-bows..._ Remus, it was fucking brilliant.”

“You _punned_ for me.”

Sirius pulled him in close, their hips so close a gap couldn't be seen. “I’d pun for you forever.”

The motion gave Sirius the chance to grab Remus, pulling him on top of him, as he bit down on Remus' lower lip. He didn't hold back as Sirius rolled his hips into his, egging Remus on for round two.

"The ground is already unsanitized, Moony. Let's make it a quarantine zone."

* * *

**xXx**

 


End file.
